obituaries


of right and wrong, a determination to get his point across – yet a reluctance to announce any trouble. As a branch officer in Glasgow and a long-standing presence on the Scottish and national executive councils, his softly spoken interventions were timed for maximum impact. Disagreements, when they came, would never last longer than the last item of business. John came later than most to the


John Matthews


During his last illness, two of John Matthews’s comrades from the NUJ’s Glasgow branch asked if there was anything they could bring him at home. “No,” he replied. Ten: “Actually…” A long pause. “A cheesecake.” Such a hesitant and peculiar


request was typical of John, who has died aged 70. He had a strong sense


newspaper trade. Born in Port Glasgow on Scotland’s West Coast, he was brought up in Kilmarnock, one of seven siblings. He moved to Edinburgh to study at the higher education college Moray House, and his first vocation was supporting Scotland’s destitute. He worked at the People’s Palace mission in Edinburgh, before qualifying as a social worker and being deployed to Wester Hailes, a large housing scheme on the capital’s periphery. Later, John travelled to Paris,


where he studied clowning and melodrama under master clown Philippe Gaulier, known for his ‘legendarily terrifying teaching style’. It was not his first foray into the entertainment business – and it


voluntary redundancy in 1996. He was an active member of the NUJ and northern rep for the Newspaper Press Fund. John, along with reporter Ian


McWilliam-Fowler, the then father of chapel, were founder members of the paper’s journalists’ chapel which began in 1977 with a 25p monthly levy that increased to £1 as a fighting fund. Its name was later changed to the less confrontational soundingOdd Job Society. John helped Ian in a proposed


John Featherstone


John Featherstone, a retired staff photographer for the Manchester Evening News (MEN) died in late May. He was 93. John joined the paper in 1958


aged 25. He had moved to Manchester from the Coventry Evening Telegraph and remained at the MEN for the next 38 years until


22 | theJournalist


house agreement the same year, which stated: “Between January 1975 and December 1976, inflation rose massively. We have had rises but they have failed totally to maintain our standard of living. To simply return us to the position we ‘enjoyed’ in July 1975 needs an immediate increase of 30.6 per cent. I propose a very reasonable claim of 35 per cent which, if achieved in full, would only put us level with inflation during the past two years of wage restraint.” Later, on a train to London on


union business, John met by chance Professor Lord William (Bill)


certainly would not be his last. As children, John and his siblings had put on plays. “We got money from our parents for sweeties, charged them money to watch this appalling stuff and sold them the sweeties,” John’s brother Hugh recalls. John made a proper career from


performance, appearing in numerous theatrical productions, skits and revues. In union activities, he both championed the arts and brought a sense of theatricality to the dullest of proceedings. John was the first of his siblings to


marry, and had two daughters, Helen and Hannah. In his 40s, he took on occasional Saturday night subbing shifts at the Sunday Post in Glasgow. It helped pay the bills – little did he know it would be the start of three decades in journalism and the NUJ. He wrote for and edited weekly


papers in Ayrshire, while throwing himself into union activity at every level. John was at the forefront of a 2010 campaign to stop the deportation of Cameroonian journalist Charles Atangana, who had fled his home country after being threatened because of his investigative work. John let Charles


Wedderburn, a leading figure in English labour law. Tis meeting and Wedderburn’s later advice came at a critical time in 1980 when the entire MEN editorial chapel except executives had been sacked after working to contract. It had been described as ‘almost bordering on anarchy’ by management and in breach of contract. Te dispute dragged on, with


the chapel banning overtime and requiring members to take time off owing. Agreement was finally reached with members reinstated and ‘receiving considerable back pay for lost months paid just before Christmas. John was involved in negotiating


a four-day week and sabbaticals of an extra month’s holiday every four years as a form of ‘refreshment to one’s mind’. He introduced ‘welly’ money – extra money for weather- resistant clothing for photographers at soccer and rugby games. In his early years at the MEN,


John was sent to cover an early morning fire at a garage. Te blaze was out when John arrived so,


move into his home and played a crucial role in raising funds for his case. Te campaign was successful. Charles, still living in Glasgow, was a pallbearer and communion minister at John’s funeral. Along with his companion


Natasha Gerson, an acclaimed actor and prominent Equity activist, John was famed for giving lively parties that were the envy of Scotland’s trade union movement. Later years brought a number of health issues, but John faced them with determination, maintaining an active professional and social life. Natasha’s death last year was a heavy blow for John, but he was determined to give her a proper, theatrical send-off, acting as master of ceremonies at her funeral. John is survived by his siblings,


daughters and four grandchildren. On being told that John had died, his grandson Nolan asked if it had happened at 10am – the correct time of death. He knew, he said, because at that time they had been making paper aeroplanes at school – and his was the only one that flew.


Conrad Landin


after taking his first pictures, he asked if he could go inside to take a final picture. He was told it was safe but wet


underfoot. Wearing wellingtons and with plate camera and flashgun, he splashed his way into the blackened interior. He took a picture, treading from one duckboard to another, but the second duckboard was floating over an inspection pit. John plunged up to his armpits in


black, oily water. Reporter Bernard Pratt saw what happened and pulled a soaking John from the pit. John lived nearby so, instead of


returning to the office, he phoned to report the incident then drove home to change and shower. His camera, flashgun and pictures were ruined. Te result was a new Rolleiflex


roll film camera and flashgun, but John commented that there must have been an easier way to negotiate new camera equipment.’ John leaves wife Jean, daughter


Carolyn, two sons and six grandchildren.


Bill Batchelor


CLIVE COOKSEY


NUJ


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